


Getting Detention

by Jadzia7667



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, First Time, Humor, M/M, Parody, Pre-Slash, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-30
Updated: 2006-10-30
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10065335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia7667/pseuds/Jadzia7667
Summary: Something’s gone dreadfully awry in the Potions classroom.A/N:For SweetSorcery. This washardto write; you have no idea. They just didn’twantto cooperate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Spawned from this twenty word drabble:

_“Weasley,” Snape bellowed, “Will you never be able to brew properly? Detention, eight o’clock.”_

_Ron looked down, ears red. Success._

Ron didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he was sure this day could not possibly end well. He’d lost his mind, or he was ill. Possibly he’d been hexed. Or some combination of all three. All Ron knew was that he wanted, inexplicably, his greasy git of a Potions master. Part of his mind gibbered, ‘why, why, _why_?!’ with a sort of panicked quaver at the end. The rest of his mind just wanted to get on with it.

One minute he’d been leaning in the doorway of Potions class, staring at Lavender Brown’s tits (which were magnificent; it must be said) through her artfully unbuttoned school robes. The next, he’d been shoved through the door (likely by Malfoy, the slimy ferret). He’d stumbled into the room, and his gaze had landed on his hated Professor. 

Ron’s body had gone hot, then cold, then hot again. He tingled, all over, as from a particularly malicious Stinging Hex. He felt sweat breaking out on his upper lip. He had to be pale as a ghost; he just knew all the blood in his body was pooling in one inconvenient place. 

Unconsciously, he licked his lips and stared at the dark snapping robes that had always unnerved him. He wondered, for the first time, just what Snape was hiding under those robes. Harry said he was a spy for their side; that must mean he was fit. Maybe.

He gazed covertly at pale skin and compelling eyes. The hair didn’t seem quite so greasy today, and the nose wasn’t quite as…large. Except that it was. Snape hadn’t changed. He had, and damned if he knew why. He watched graceful hands gesture through the lecture without comprehending a word of what was said. 

The dangerous voice didn’t grate on his nerves now; it ignited them. Ron’s whole body reacted to that voice. The gravel of it scraped against his synapses, making him shiver. The honey of it was sweet to his ears and he wondered if he’d be able to taste it on his tongue. He shuddered, thinking about his tongue on Snape’s skin, and wondered if it would ever be allowed. 

Harry nudged him. “Mate, don’t do…” It was too late. Ron had added one too many newt eyes to his potion. Instead of it turning bilious green as it should, the bloody thing exploded in a shower of yellow sparks. Definitely not good. Unless… If Snape would just give him detention, perhaps he could work whatever this was out of his system. 

Now he was covered in yellow goo _and_ horny for his Potions master. Bloody wonderful, that was. He sighed heavily and began to clean up his mess. His senses reeled when Snape swooped in to shout at him. He manfully refrained from cheeking him. That would only earn him a detention with Filch. Instead, he cast his eyes down and attempted to hold his temper. 

“Weasley,” Snape bellowed, “Will you never learn to brew properly?” No, he wouldn’t. Not when he was unable to think around this man. “Dentention. Eight o’clock.”

Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Let me shag you, Sir. Ron was aghast at his own thoughts, but they were undeniably there. He resolutely looked down, ears red. “Yes, Sir.” His voice was uncharacteristically meek. Merlin’s balls! What was happening to him? He was so distracted by his wayward penis that he didn’t notice Snape hadn’t taken points.

When class was over, he escaped as quickly as he could, face burning with embarrassment and arousal. This was bloody ridiculous. Maybe he’d be over it before detention. A small voice whispered to him, “ _Not a chance, mate. You want him._ ” Ron scowled and shoved the voice into a deep dark hole. Then he jumped on the irritatingly correct voice. Then he poured dirt into the hole and suffocated the blighter. It didn’t help. 

He still wanted Snape. 

~*~*~*~

Lavender just didn’t understand it. She’d paid good money for that Seduction Spell. She’d cast it during their first class together, and it had gone off just as the instructions said. Yet here she was, decidedly un-aroused. Won-won didn’t appear to be paying her any special attention either. It was supposed to excite them both enough to get beyond the first time jitters, but it seemed it had done the opposite. Perhaps she’d held her wand backwards? Lavender didn’t think so, but it was possible. She sighed heavily and flipped her hair back out of her face. She’d just have to try again tomorrow.

*~*~*~*

Severus gripped the edge of the desk, shaking. This was bad. This was very bad, indeed. He wasn’t supposed to lust after the students. Any students. Moreover, to lust after a Weasley, of all people, was to add insult to injury. Merlin’s hairy balls, what was he going to do? In a fit of obvious insanity, he hadn’t taken all of Gryffindor’s points when the Weasley brat exploded his potion. He hadn’t hexed him sterile, either. Instead, he’d assigned the whelp a personal detention. With himself. What was he thinking? 

_You were thinking he’s grown up awfully fit._ Severus mentally hexed that voice right out of his head. His skin was too tight, he was sweating beneath his robes. He thanked Merlin for those robes, though. They concealed the throbbing need that he’d felt since Weasley entered the room. 

He didn’t even like redheads. Most especially not excessively tall, freckled redheads with long muscles and wide shoulders and nicely rounded arses. He especially despised milky skin dusted with golden freckles. More than that, he loathed bright blue eyes that burned with unsubtle anger, hinting at equally strong passions beneath the surface. To make things worse, the impossibly insolent pup had the most suckable lower lip Severus had seen in quite some time. 

He was going to go take a cold shower. An extremely cold shower. Perhaps, by the time eight o’clock rolled around, he’d be over this. He ignored the small voice in the back of his mind that said, “ _Not a chance, mate. You want him._ ”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the depths of Diagon Alley:

“Oi! Fred!”

George obligingly poked his head into the small room at the back of the shop. 

“I think we miscalculated this Seduction Spell. It seems to work on the target, but transfers itself to the first person the target sees after he or she has been hit with it, instead of to the caster.”

George chortled. “That oughta make things interesting at school, yeah?”

Fred grinned. “So we shouldn’t add a disclaimer to the instructions?”

“What for?”

“Too right.”

~The End~


End file.
